


Never Thought I'd Reach The Shore

by Nightwing11



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Like a hell of a lot of angst, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-World War II, Stucky Big Bang 2016, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 18:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7902400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightwing11/pseuds/Nightwing11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve put the plane in the Arctic, he thought that was the end of it. The end of his struggle, the end of the war, the end of life without Bucky Barnes. </p><p>But, as with most things in life, Steve Rogers didn’t get what he expected.<br/>Instead, due to Howard Stark’s obsessive diligence, he was found and thawed out a mere two years after the crash. But, nothing was the same and Steve had never felt more lost. </p><p>However, when a young redheaded girl name Natasha arrives at the SSR, looking for Peggy Carter, saying a man named Yasha saved her and told her Peggy would keep her safe, Steve soon finds that the life he wanted might not be that far out of reach after all. </p><p>As this is part of the Stucky Big Bang, check out the amazing <a href="http://bouncybucky.tumblr.com/post/149628334868/stucky-big-bang-art-for-never-thought-id-reach">artwork</a> for this piece done by the insanely talented <a href="http://bouncybucky.tumblr.com">bouncybucky</a> . Check out their tumblr for even more Stucky goodness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Thought I'd Reach The Shore

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out the amazing [artwork](http://bouncybucky.tumblr.com/post/149628334868/stucky-big-bang-art-for-never-thought-id-reach) for this piece done by the insanely talented [bouncybucky](http://bouncybucky.tumblr.com), who also did the banner at the top of this fic! Check out their tumblr for even more Stucky goodness.
> 
> As always, special thanks to my beta reader and good friend [floatingkhoshekfloats](http://archiveofourown.org/users/floatingkhoshekfloats/pseuds/floatingkhoshekfloats) (here's her [tumblr](http://http://floating-khoshek-floats.tumblr.com/) )whom I would have lost my damn mind without during this here Big Bang (still don't know why I thought I could easily handle two fics. Ugh, I'm such a fucking meatball). Anyway, thanks for keeping me sane during all this. Couldn't have done it without you! 
> 
> I believe I've tagged everything, but please please please, if you feel I need to add any additional tags, let me know. The last thing I want to do is trigger someone. 
> 
> I own none of these characters. Title taken from the "Not Changing Pops Seeking" by the amazing Oscar Isaac.

 

Contrary to popular belief, the cold hadn’t been what had bothered Steve the most when he had crashed the plane.

 

Of course it wasn’t enjoyable. His last moments being surrounded by frigid water, slowly rising to cover him completely, taking place of the air he needed to survive. The impact had the ice slamming into him like knives, tearing at his uniform and exposed face.

 

And yes, it was terrible and awful and horrific. But the cold wasn’t all that foreign. See, Steve Rogers hadn’t been warm since he watched helpless as Bucky Barnes - his best friend, his partner in crime, his right hand man, his love - fell to his death.

 

Steve had always related Bucky to warmth - dexterous fingers rubbing salve on a bruise, gentle hands rubbing circulation back into Steve’s freezing arms and legs, a tight hug, cuddles under a blanket, homemade chicken soup during an illness. Bucky had always run hot, like a furnace, and when they had no source of heat during the cold winters nights, the brunet would mold himself around Steve’s tiny frame, wrapping the pair tightly in blankets, as he hugged Steve tight, keeping him thawed.

 

So, though the ice was unpleasant to crash into, it had been seeping into his veins since he lost Bucky.

 

As it turned out, coming out of the cold was almost as painful as going in, the same stinging in his skin, the crush against his chest, not of water this time, but air, the clench of muscles that had forgotten warmth, forgotten movement.

 

And then, the other cold - colder than the ice - the lack of Bucky, raced through his bones as painfully as before he'd crashed the plane.

 

Steve couldn’t remember ever waking up in a hospital bed without Bucky by his side, and though he felt himself slowly rising back to consciousness, he refused to open his eyes to a world without Bucky Barnes in it.

 

“Steven, darling, open your eyes.” He would recognize Peggy’s gentle voice anywhere, her hand running through his hair softly, comforting him as she had after Bucky had -

 

Steve swallowed, forcing the image to the back of his mind, not wanting to face the reality of a life, of a world without Bucky. Steve hadn’t wanted to die, per say, when he crashed the plane, but the fact that Bucky was waiting for him on the other side made the decision far less frightening.

 

“Steven Grant Rogers, you open your bloody eyes and stop lazing about this instant,” Peggy commanded, her voice stern, though it grew soft as she continued. “You’ve kept me waiting long enough.”

 

At that, Steve cracked his eyes open, lips turning up softly as he took in Peggy. She looked older, somehow, though it was more in her eyes and the way she held herself, as though she had been carrying a great weight for far too long, than in her appearance.

 

“Hey, Pegs.” Steve spoke softly, meeting her bloodshot eyes with his own. His voice was raspy and hoarse. “Water?”

 

Peggy moved swiftly, grabbing a glass and cupping his face gently as she helped him take a drink.

 

Steve sighed, the water feeling blessedly good on his parched throat. “Sorry I missed our date.”

 

“It’s alright. You promised me a raincheck, and I expect you to deliver.” She instructed, wiping quickly at her eyes. “It’s so very good to see you.”

 

“You too, Peggy.” Steve reached out and grabbed her hand in his own, squeezing gently. “What happened? How did you find me? Where are the boys?” Steve looked around, growing frantic as the reality of how he left his team set in.

 

“Shhhh.” Peggy soothed. “The rest of the team is fine. Dugan and Jones are already here. The others are on their way. They’re excited to see you.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“Howard wouldn’t give up looking for you. I think he blamed himself in some way. Or maybe he just wanted that bloody shield back.” She chuckled to herself. “But the Stark obstinance paid off despite your best efforts. The thing is, Steve...well, Howard’s good, but you weren’t easy to find and…”

 

She took a deep breath, as though bracing for what she was about to say. “It’s been two years, Steve.”

 

Steve stared, dumbfounded. “I...what? How?”

 

“The ice preserved you. Kept you frozen in some type of stasis.”

 

Steve sat, letting the gravity of what Peggy had said wash over him. Two years, 24 months. Though he knew she would never lie to him about something as significant as this, it was still a major blow to comprehend.

 

And he knew he should ask about the war - if it was over and if they won. About Phillips and how he and Peggy had gotten out of the base. Hell, Steve didn’t even know what country he was in. But, there was only one thing that he could even bring himself to care about at the moment.

 

“Where’s Bucky?”

 

Peggy’s face fell. “Steve, Bucky fell from the train, remember? When you went after Zola.”

 

“I know, but…” Steve took a deep breath. “His body. You went back for his body, right? The Commandos would have gone back for him.”

 

“Steve.” And Peggy looked so devastated. “The war didn’t end right after you fell. We had to keep fighting. And by the time we could have sent a team to look…”

 

“No.” Steve shook his head as aggressively as he could. He tried to sit up, though the lingering effects of the cold weighed him down. “I have to find him. I have to bring him home. I can’t leave him there. I can’t.”

 

"It's been two years, darling." Peggy said softly. "With the snowdrifts and potential avalanches...we'd never find his remains."

 

"I have to..." Steve swallowed hard. "I can't leave him, Peggy. I can't..." His words trailed off and he took in a shaky breath.

 

"Steve." Cupping his cheek with her hand, Peggy forced him to make eye contact with her. "Bucky wouldn't want you to kill yourself on a fool's errand. He'd want you to move on, live your life. He made his choice. Honor his choice."

 

Steve took in a shaky breath, the exhale escaping as a sob.

 

And then the floodgates opened. Steve curled in on himself as much as humanly possibly. His shoulders shook, body heaving as he was unable to catch his breath against the onslaught of emotions.

 

Peggy instantly pulled Steve toward her, wrapping him in her arms, murmuring assurances as her friend fell apart in her arms.

 

* * *

 

It was a rough time for Steve, to say the least. Not only was he grieving for Bucky, because it’s not like he had had time to before he crashed, but being back in the hospital, recovering from his two year nap, reminded him of when he was weak and small, stuck in the hospital for weeks at a time with phenomena or scarlet fever or whatever else the world had decided to throw at him.

 

Of course, this time there was no Bucky to keep him sane. To distract him as the needles punctured his skin for more bloodwork, to sneak him cheeseburgers when the doctor wasn’t looking, to curl around him as he tried to sleep - whispering all the while that Steve was strong and good and wasn’t a burden.

 

However, it was great to see his friends again. Howard came in like a whirlwind, complaining about the subpar medical equipment and the lack of attractive nurses. He promised Steve that his medical expenses were already taken care of, and, when Steve got out of the hospital, to pick whatever apartment or home he wanted - Howard would handle the cost.

 

Steve tried to protest, but in a rare solemn moment, Howard asked Steve to please let him do this. The blond vaguely remembered what Peggy said about Stark’s regret over his “death” and agreed, hoping it would alleviate the genius’ guilt. However, when Steve tried to ensure he’d pay Howard back, Stark would hear nothing of it.

 

“What are friends for, Steve?”

 

And, of course, he was happy to see the Commandos again. Though they had been close since the team had formed, Steve gained a new level of respect for them after Bucky’s death.

 

_Gabe had arrived in the bombed out bar after Peggy left. Silence reigned for a long moment before. “I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling. If I lost my Irene, I’d-” He let out a shaky breath._

 

_Steve started sputtering, turning to Gabe, eyes wide in apparent fear._

 

_Before the blond could speak, Gabe raised a hand, silencing him. “We know about you and Barnes. We’ve always known. And we didn’t care. Still don’t. You’re good men and you brought each other happiness. Who are we to judge that?”_

 

_Gabe took a long swig of his whiskey. “I just wish we would have told you both so you could have spent some more time being yourselves before…” His voice trailed off, before he took another drag of the alcohol, holding it out to Steve. And, though the blond knew it would barely affect him, he took a swig anyway, something comforting about having someone to drink with, to grief with._

 

Steve was glad to see the Commandos were as intact and ornery as ever. Once he arrived via a red-eye, Falsworth had pushed his way past security to see Steve, causing a ruckus when they tried to tell him that “only family” could visit after hours.

 

Morita told him about his fiancée, Constance, and made Steve promise he’d come out to Fresno for the wedding. Gabe had pictures of his newborn little boy whom he and his wife had named Isaiah Steven.

 

Dernier, speaking in soft French, had managed to convince the nurse to let him bring alcohol, as well as a cheeseburger and fries, into the hospital room. (He claimed he had charmed her with the beauty of the French language, however Gabe informed Steve all he had done was just confuse the poor girl and the others were able to sneak in the room with the booze and food while she was distracted.)

 

Dum Dum had grown misty-eyed the moment he walked in the room, eventually flinging himself in the chair next to Steve as he cried, reaching out his hand to grip the sleeve of Steve’s hospital gown. He had been particularly close to Bucky, and by extension, Steve. The blond knew losing the two men so closely must have been hard, especially since Dum Dum had no family to go back home to. So, Steve merely gripped Dum Dum’s hand in his own, letting him work through all the grief he had kept bottled up over the past two years.

 

When Steve was finally released four days after waking up, it was decided he would stay with Peggy. Though the Commandos were all staying on a nearby base (thanks to some strings Phillips had pulled), Steve didn’t think he was quiet up for the hustle and bustle of military housing.

 

So, instead, he took Peggy up on her offer to let him stay with her until he and Howard could find the blond an apartment.

 

The brunette was unnaturally quiet, and when Steve asked what was on her mind, she responded with “nothing to bother yourself with, darling” and a not quite genuine smile.

 

It was later that night when Steve woke to hearing a quiet argument, two hushed but harsh voices carrying through the house.

 

The blond quietly kicked off his blankets, grabbing the shield that leant on the wall beside his bed, tiptoeing toward the sound, staying shrouded in the shadows as he moved down the hall.

 

In the foyer right inside the front door stood a petite blonde woman, a waitress’ uniform on. Her hair looked disheveled and her eyes were puffy and bloodshot as she cried. Peggy had her back to Steve as the two women talked in violent whispers.

 

“Angie, please.” The only time Steve had ever heard Peggy’s voice so desperate was when he was about to crash the plane.

 

“You know I’m right. We can’t - they already hate you at your job because you’re a woman. If they found out about us?” The blonde shook her head. “He’s better for you. You can have the picket fence and a houseful of kids and the whole shebang.”

 

“So, what? That’s it? Two years and then you just -” Peggy had to stop, putting a fist over her mouth to keep the sob at bay.

 

“I - I just want what’s best for you. And that’s the blond beefcake you got hidden away, not me.” Her voice shattered on the last word.

 

“Angie-” Peggy started, and god, Steve had never heard her sound so defeated.

 

“Have a good life, English.” The blonde leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Peggy’s cheek. “Be happy.” She pleaded, before turning on her heels and hurrying out the door. The sound of a sob echoing after her.

 

Peggy started toward the door, hand reaching for the knob. She stopped, hesitated, her hand curling into a fist before she rested her head against the door, her shoulders shaking with what were undoubtedly tears.

 

Steve rested his shield against the wall before he stepped out of the shadows. “Peggy.” Though he spoke softly, the brunette still gave a tiny jump. Her hands went up, wiping at her eyes and taking a deep breath before she turned, an insincere smile plastered on her face.

 

“Are you okay, darling? What are you doing up? Would you like some tea?” She started toward the kitchen, but Steve’s hand on her arm gently held her in place.

 

“Peggy.” Steve repeated, eyes boring into her.

 

She sniffled, and Steve pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. “You know, Bucky did the same thing to me.”

 

Peggy pulled back, looking at him questioningly. “When he saw you and me together, after Azzano. He came to my tent that night and told me I should be with you instead. That you could give me everything he couldn’t.” He chuckled, though there was no real humor in it. “I wanted to punch the self-sacrificing bastard right in his perfect face.”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“I almost listened, to tell you the truth, but that wouldn’t have been fair, to any of us. So, I told him he was being a fucking idiot. You’re amazing Peggy, and had the cards been dealt a bit differently, I could have grown old with you and been happy. But, Bucky was my life. And she-”

 

“Angie.” Peggy supplied, wiping at her tears.

 

“Angie.” Steve smiled warmly. “Well, Angie’s your Bucky.”

 

“Yes. I - bloody hell.” She was already moving toward the door, grabbing her coat on the way out.

 

She glanced over her shoulder at Steve, giving him a watery smile, before she hurried outside.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s life fell into a rather mundane pattern after that. He found a nice little house in Brooklyn, complete with two extra rooms (the Commandos were constantly visiting, and while it was somewhat insulting to feel like they were babysitting him, he couldn’t say he minded the company).

 

He officially met Angie, and though both parties were expecting awkwardness to reign supreme, the two became fast friends. Angie reminded him of Bucky’s little sisters, wild and outspoken, a spirit that couldn’t be tamed. And, given how she looked at Peggy like she hung the moon, Steve knew the two were in it for the long haul, and honestly, couldn’t think of anyone more perfect for his friend.

 

However, the grief and loneliness still reared its ugly head from time to time. Steve still lived primarily out of the boxes that contained the contents of his and Bucky’s old apartment (thank God Howard was so guilt-ridden that he had obtained all of their possessions and put them into storage.)

 

However, Steve couldn’t put up any of the pictures he had of Bucky or the sketches of him the blond had drawn. The knick-knacks that were once Bucky’s were safely stored in the corner of Steve’s closet, waiting for the day when Steve could face them.

 

However things were getting slightly better, and though the house was still sparsely decorated, it was beginning to feel a bit more like a home.

 

About four months after he had been thawed out, he was organizing some new records he had bought when there was a knock on the door.

 

“Coming.” Steve shouted, though he made sure to grab the handgun Peggy and the others insisted he keep on his person at all times, their fear of HYDRA coming back for him all too real.

 

Glancing out of the peephole, he smiled as he saw who was on the other side, flipping the safety off the gun as he opened the door.

 

“Heya, Peg-” His voice got caught in his throat as he saw the small red-headed child standing in front of her, a small bag slung over her shoulder.

 

“Natasha, dear. Why don’t you go look through some of Steve’s books while he and I make you some hot chocolate.”

 

The girl studied Steve for a long moment, her gaze much more piercing than any child her age should be able to manage. Finally she walked forward, her posture soldier like, into the house.

 

The two adults watched the girl trek into the apartment, before Peggy moved toward the kitchen with Steve. The blond closed the door behind him.

 

“Relative of yours?”

 

“No.” Peggy sat down heavily. “She showed up at the SSR facility this morning looking for me. Apparently, she was being kept by both HYDRA and a new Russian group known as the Red Room.”

 

“You’re telling me HYDRA is active somewhere here in Brooklyn?”

 

“Well, it’s not outside of the realm of possibility, but that’s not where she claims to have escaped from.”

 

“Where?”

 

Peggy paused before answering in a measured tone. “Tula.”

 

“ _Russia_?!” Steve nearly shouted.

 

“Shhh!” Peggy bit back, glancing toward the door.

 

“You’re telling me a child - she’s what, eight? maybe? - not only escaped a Nazi terrorist group, but then traveled from Russia to New York by herself and made it out in one piece?”

 

“From what she’s described of her time there, it sounds like they were training her to be an assassin. Her blood work shows that she has some traces of Erskine’s serum.”

 

“Jesus.” Steve sat down at the kitchen table. “They’re trying to make child super-soldiers now.”

 

“It would appear so.” Peggy answered grimmily, taking a seat adjacent Steve’s.

 

“How did she escape?”

 

“Apparently HYDRA was holding a man there as well. He helped her get away and told her to find me. That I would keep her safe.”

 

“Who would tell her that?” Steve asked.

 

“I haven’t a bloody clue.” Peggy ran her hands through her hair, and Steve could see the tight grip she generally kept on her composure slipping away. “Natasha is very wary of us. Given what she’s gone through, that’s completely understandable.”

 

“What has she told you?”

 

“Just that she called the man ‘Yasha’ and he had one arm. That he was kind.”

 

“We think he’s a friendly?”

 

“We don’t have enough to go off of either way. And, even if we did, we’re no longer at war. Neither the SSR nor the military would sign off on a rescue operation even if he was one of our own. I’m hoping that once Natasha learns to trust us a bit more, that we can get more information out of her.”

 

“Any luck finding her parents?”

 

Peggy shook her head, eyes growing sad. “She doesn’t remember ever having any. HYDRA likely killed them when they took her.”

 

“Why bring her here?”

 

“Because you can keep her safe. And you’re everything that HYDRA stood against, so if she were to trust and open up to anyone, it would be you.” Peggy sighed. “And, I think you two could be good for one another.”

 

Steve sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I don’t know.”

 

“Steve.” Peggy said, rather sternly. “You’ve had yourself holed up in this apartment for weeks. I know you’re hurting. But this child needs someone to keep her safe and you need something to recenter yourself.”

 

He sighed, knowing Peggy had been worried about him since he found his own place. And she wasn’t entirely wrong. Without Bucky there, he felt like he was freefalling through the air without a parachute.

 

And he had people in his corner. Peggy, the Commandos, hell, even Angie.

 

This poor child - Natasha - had no one. All that she remembered was a life of pain and sorrow, whatever HYDRA had done to her likely more horrific than anything Steve’s mind could conjure up.

 

“Wish Bucky was here.” Steve finally spoke, a wistful smile on his face. “He was always so good with his sisters. They adored him. He could get them to behave better than their parents half the time.”

 

Peggy reached across the table and squeezed Steve’s hand.

 

“No one is going to make you do this alone, Steve. Angie and I will help you. Howard has already agreed to provide whatever kind of financial support you might need. I’m sure the Commandos will be here as well. You won’t be alone, Steve.”

 

Steve blew out a loud breath before nodding, standing and heading into the other room.

 

“Hey, Natasha.” Steve knelt down in front of the girl. “Do you know who I am?”

 

“Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Enemy of HYDRA.”

 

“That’s right. So, you know I’m not with HYDRA or the Red Room. Peggy tells me they weren’t very nice to you.”

 

Natasha studies him warily, giving nothing away but a tiny shake of her head.

 

“I’m so sorry.” Steve gave a small smile. “But you’re safe now. And, if it’s okay with you, you’re going to stay with me for a while.”

 

“What if-” Natasha froze, jaw snapping shut as she looked toward the ground. “‘M sorry, sir.”

 

“Hey.” Steve waited until she looked back up at him and smiled brightly. “You don’t have to apologize for talking or asking questions here. No one’s going to be mad at you or hurt you. You can ask any questions you want.”

 

Natasha studied him for a long moment, the disbelief and distrust clear on her features.

 

However, Steve just waited her out, keeping his posture open and nonthreatening.

 

“What if HYDRA comes for me?”

 

“Then I’ll stop them.” His voice did not contain an ounce of uncertainty.

 

Natasha once more studied him, and Steve did his best not to fidget under her gaze. Finally she nodded.

 

Steve stood, extending his hand toward her. “Alright, now that that’s settled, let’s go get some hot chocolate. I even have tiny marshmallows.”

 

“What are marshmallows?” the young girl asked.

 

Steve had to fight back a rush of fury at HYDRA for depriving a child (possible countless children) of their childhood. Then and there he swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to protect this child and to burn HYDRA to the ground. That there would be no more lost childhoods or dead lovers at their hands.

 

He forced the smile to remain on his face, even as his hands clenched into fist.

 

“Oh, kiddo. You are in for a treat.” He motioned toward the kitchen, and though Natasha didn’t take his offered hand, she did head toward the other room.

 

He decided to count it as a victory.

 

* * *

 

Steve and Nat got off to a rough start. The first week, Steve had tried to treat her like a small child. And though she was, being all of eight years old, her life thus far had led her to be much older in spirit.

 

So, once Steve stop treating her with the kid gloves, talking to her a bit more like an adult and not walking on eggshells around her, the two began to form a tight knit bond. Steve asked Natasha’s opinion on everything, giving her choices and asking her questions, never getting upset when she spoke.

 

He made her all different types of food, and, if she didn’t like something, rather than punish her or force feed it to her like HYDRA did, he would smile and asked what she would like to eat instead.

 

And, Steve even had locks installed on Natasha’s door, which she could fasten when she went to sleep. Steve gave her the keys, promising her that was her safe space and he would never go in there if he wasn’t welcome.

 

There were many nights when she couldn’t sleep, either nightmares or uneasiness with the new environment keeping he awake, and Steve would tell her stories about Bucky or Peggy or the Commandos until she drifted off to sleep.

 

He soon realized the girl was incredibly smart, speaking multiple languages. He once walked in on her reading the Hobbit, and when Steve asked if she enjoyed it, she said she had, and admitted to having read it almost a half dozen times.

 

So, Steve called in a favor from Stark, and soon had boxes of books for Natasha to read through. The young girl’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, and, for the first time, she hugged Steve, thanking him profusely before going through her new books.

 

That had been two weeks ago, and since, Natasha seemed to trust him. And Steve, though he had only had her a month, was already brainstorming with Howard and Peggy on how he could keep Natasha permanently.

 

Two in the morning found Steve sitting on the couch sketching, a mug of tea in his hand. Yet another nightmare of Bucky plummeting to his death had disturbed his slumber and left him so off kilter that he knew he’d find sleep impossible.

 

Instead, he sat on his oversized couch, sketchbook in lap. He hadn’t any true goal in his sketching when he started, but quickly the marks of charcoal began to form Bucky’s face.

 

He heard Natasha’s door open and close as she walked down the hallway. Steve turned to face her, smiling as brightly as he could.

 

“Hey, kiddo.” He sat his sketchpad down, walking toward Natasha, picking up both her and the teddy bear she was dragging behind her.

 

At first, she seemed reluctant to accept the toy, as though it were a trap. But, Steve quickly noticed her falling in love with it, reaching for it when she was upset and never letting it out of her sight. He suggested that she name the bear, hoping it would reiterate to her that the toy was hers to keep.

 

So, the girl called it “Yasha” after the first person who had ever shown her kindness, who had fought against HYDRA’s wishes and set her free. She now drug the toy everywhere, as if it were an extension of herself.

 

“Bad dreams?” Steve asked when she remained silent.

 

She nodded, and Steve could sense her exhaustion as she leaned forward, burying her face in his neck.

 

“Yeah,” He hugged her tightly. “Me too. Wanna try going back to bed?”

 

He could feel her shaking her head against his collarbone.

 

“Alright. What about some hot cocoa then?”

 

She perked up at that, looking up at him with wide eyes. “With marshmallows?”

 

Steve scoffed. “Of course with marshmallows. We aren’t barbarians.”

 

She sniggered at that. A few weeks ago, Steve likely wouldn’t have made that joke, fearing it would go over the child’s head, but, the longer she stayed, the more he realized how intelligent the girl was. Part of him wondered how much was due to the serum and HYDRA’s horrific child rearing skills. But, a large part of him, the part of him that wanted to find some happiness in this world, just decided to be proud of the little girl he was already growing so fond of.

 

Steve walked the two into the kitchen, setting Natasha down on the counter as he grabbed the saucepan and began heating up the milk.

 

The two remained in companionable silence until the milk was thoroughly heated and Steve added the cocoa and an obscene amount of marshmallows.

 

“Do you want it in here or on the couch?” Steve asked, having heard from the few doctors he talked to how important it would be to empower Natasha to make as many decisions as she could.

 

Natasha studied him for a moment, her eyes turning wary as they always did when he presented her with a choice. However, seeing no malice or deceit, she finally answered “Couch. Carry Yasha,” she instructed, grabbing one of the mugs and heading toward the door.

 

Steve stomped down the illogical urge to tell her to be careful not to spill or hurt herself on the hot liquid. He had realized in the first few days she had stayed with him that she was far more graceful than any child her age should be, a necessity if she’d hoped to survive HYDRA.

 

Steve shook his head, grabbing Yasha with his free hand and his mug of cocoa with the other.

 

The door swung open and Steve was barely able to dodge that knife that whizzed by his head, lodging itself in the door.

 

He dropped the mug, rolling out of the way on instinct as his eyes scanned the room, looking for the threat and the best way to neutralize it without Natasha getting hurt.

 

However, what he was not expecting was to see the small girl, eyes wide in both anger and a tinge of fear, staring him down. She slammed her mug on the edge of the coffee table, breaking it open, before brandishing the jagged edge toward Steve like a weapon.

 

“Natasha.” Steve said wearily, holding his hands up to appear as nonthreatening as possible, racking his brain to figure out what he had done to trigger the child. She hadn’t acted rash or threatening since Peggy had brought her to his house.

 

“Natasha, put the mug down.”

 

The child started speaking in rapid-fire Russian, a hateful edge to the words.

 

Steve’s heart broke. For the first time, he was able to see what HYDRA and the Red Room had tried to turn her into, and a great swell of rage welled up inside him, driving him to want to find each and every head of HYDRA, cutting them all off and daring them the grow back.

 

Steve took a step toward her, but stopped as she snarled, holding the mug out further and backing roughly into the corner, a tactic Steve knew she was using to cut off the possibility of being snuck up on from behind.

 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe.” He tried to keep his words as soothing as possible. “HYDRA isn’t going to hurt you here.”

 

“Lies!” She shouted, her accent coming through heavily. “You are HYDRA.”

 

Steve actually took a step back in shock at her words. “No, I work for the SSR, remember?”

 

“You were drawing Yasha! How would you know him if you weren’t HYDRA?”

 

Steve’s eyes widen in confusion, mouth opening to ask more questions, before his eyes landed on his open sketchbook, where a rough charcoal sketch of Bucky was near completion.

 

“Natasha, Sweetheart. That’s Bucky. Remember me telling you about him? My best guy? He used to look out for me when I was sick or pickin’ fights?”

 

“No, that is Yasha! He’s my friend! He protected me! He helped me escape!”

 

Steve opened his mouth to correct her once more, but a realization slowly dawned on him. ‘Yasha’ had kept Natasha safe, had told her to find Peggy. Initially, they thought it was merely someone who knew the Agent by reputation, but perhaps it was, in fact, someone Peggy knew personally.

 

But Bucky fell! Steve watched him careening through mid air to the bottom of a too deep ravine. No human could have survive-

 

Steve’s heart jumped into his throat. Bucky was captured in Azzano. By Zola, who was working with Schmidt, who was obsessed with perfecting the formula. If Bucky had been given a version of the serum and turned into a super soldier…

 

“Natasha, honey. I need to show you something.”

 

“No, you-”

 

“Listen!” Steve snapped, instantly feeling bad, though he knew he couldn’t dwell on it. Not if Bucky was being held. Not if Bucky was being hurt. “I’m not HYDRA, but I...you remember me telling you about Bucky? How I lost him while we were fighting HYDRA?”

 

The girl maintained her defensive stance, but nodded.

 

“I think - I think HYDRA may have taken him, like they took you. I think Yasha is-is Bucky.”

 

“Yasha means James. ‘Bucky’ is not James.”

 

The blond scrambled over to the bookcase, pulling items off haphazardly until he found his photo album. “Bucky was a nickname. His middle name was Buchanan. James Buchanan Barnes.” He flipped through the album rapidly, knowing exactly where the picture of him and Bucky was. Steve in his uniform, Bucky in just an undershirt, both laughing, grinning - one of the few light, happy memories that Steve had from the war.

 

Steve studied it a long moment before hurrying  over to Natasha. “Is this Yasha?”

 

The redhead looked up at him with wide eyes.

 

“Natasha! Is this Yasha?”

 

The girl studied the picture for a moment before finally, warily, she nodded.

 

Steve’s knees buckled and he fell to the floor, bile rising in his throat because _holy fuck,_ HYDRA had Bucky for nearly three years. They had hurt him, were hurting him. And Nat had said that Yasha only had one -

 

Steve scrambled to the nearest trash can, purging his roiling gut into it. They had taken Bucky’s arm. They had taken Bucky. Bucky was hurt and scared and in Russia and…

 

The sound of a clattering mug broke him out of his thoughts. He looked up as Natasha approached him, having dropped her weapon. She was now clutching the picture of Steve and Bucky in her hands, studying it carefully.

 

“Yasha is your friend?”

 

Steve nodded, not trusting his own voice.

 

“Then you will go save him, right? Like he saved me?”

 

And that, more than anything, snapped Steve out of his despair. There would be time for panic and regret and disbelief later. Right now, Bucky Barnes was alive and hurting and needed saving.

 

He stood, nearly bowling Natasha over in his haste. He hurried to his phone. He needed weapons and gear and a damn plane.

 

* * *

 

“Steve. Steve!” Peggy shouted, walking after him as he crossed the SSR armory room, throwing more weapons and gear into his pack. “Would you just hold on a bloody minute?”

 

She grabbed his arm and spun him around, paying no mind to the glare he was sending her.

 

“Steve, he fell from a train into a ravine thousands of feet deep. There’s no-” He pulled away and started packing again. “Steve!”

 

“I’m not leaving him! They thought he was dead in Azzano. And he wasn’t.” Steve continued packing. “He’s alive, and I’m bringing him home.”

 

“And what if it’s a trap?”

“I don’t care.” He zipped up his bag, slinging it forcefully over his shoulder as he stepped to the door. “If they’re dumb enough to get in my way, they’re dumb enough to die.”

 

Peggy stepped in front of him, stopping his movements.

 

“I’m going.” Steve said sternly.

 

“Yes, I can see that. But if you think you’re going by yourself, then you’re an utter wanker.”

 

“I’m not putting you at risk, Peggy. I can’t be worried about both of you.”

 

Peggy stood before him, her crossed arms and raised eyebrows a signal of how unimpressed she was. “I didn’t think you could get fevers anymore, but you must have one if you  think you get to tell me what to bloody do. I’m not your kept girl, Steve. I’m an Agent of the SSR, and I can damn sure take care of myself.”

 

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t have time to argue about this.”

 

“Good, then let’s be on our way, shall we?”

 

With that, Peggy turned on her heels and headed out the door, giving Steve no choice but to follow.

 

* * *

 

 

As Steve and Peggy pulled into the airfield, he saw the Commandos already there, loading the small plane that Howard was currently fueling up.

 

“‘Bout time,” Gabe muttered, checking the chamber of his sidearm before placing it in his holster.

 

“What are you guys doing here?”

 

“Well, Miss Union Jack-” Dum Dum started, earning a glare and a “don’t” from Peggy that had him squirming before he continued.

 

“She told us about Barnes, and since he was your impulse control, we figured you might need some people watching your six.”

 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Steve replied.

 

“What? You planning to take on all of HYDRA by yourself?” Morita asked, crossing his arms.

 

Dernier muttered in French.

 

“Man, I’m not even going to translate that,” Gabe said.

 

“Alright, everything’s ready. You guys ready to load up?” Howard asked, walking toward the group while wiping greasy hands on the nearest towel.

 

“I-” Steve began his protest again.

 

The Commandos all glared at him, before finally, Gabe spoke. “We’re going to save our Sergeant.”

 

“What, you really think we’re going to let you go get Sarge by yourself?” Dum Dum asked, snorting at the absurdity of it.

 

“”I don’t want to fight you guys on this.” Steve bit back.

 

“Good.” Gabe said. “Then stop trying to argue with us and get on the damn plane so we can bring Sarge home.”

 

* * *

 

A bit over twelve hours later and they were in Tula, right outside the base. At first, Steve had wanted to go in, guns blazing, but a stern look from literally everyone but Dum Dum (who had the same idea) had him holding back.

 

Instead, he ordered them into three teams. The base was small, tiny, less chance of any leaks that way. The intel they pulled, as well as Natasha’s insight, put maybe two dozen hostiles inside the base. Few enough that the Commandos and Peggy should be able to neutralize the threat, however, they had to secure Bucky first to make sure an overzealous HYDRA agent didn’t decide to cut their loses and kill their POW.

 

Jones and Dernier took the east side of the base while Dum Dum and Morita took the West. Peggy, Steve, and Falsworth moved right through the middle. Steve, with a crudely drawn map that Natasha had explained, followed the child’s directions, praying he wasn’t too late or leading his friends into a trap.

 

The trio arrived in a large, open area, with lots of machinery around. A chair, that looked oddly like something found at the dentist but a feeling twisting in Steve’s gut told him that it was far more sinister, sat in the middle.

 

The captain had moved forward to examine it when a flurry of approaching footsteps echoed through the hallway outside. The three soldiers dove behind some discarded crates and boxes in the far corner of the room.

 

In walked half a dozen HYDRA agents, most in clean pressed, immaculate suits, while some stood in lab coats. And, between two of the big goons, being drug limply by his arm, was James Buchanan Barnes.

 

Steve was already pushing himself into a standing position, but Peggy and Falsworth gripped his arms, keeping him in place as he watched an ashen and exhausted Bucky being pulled into his line of sight.

  
Everything in him screamed to stand up, to rain destruction down on the men who had caused Bucky to look like this - pale body littered with cuts and bruises, his hair long and dull, a layer of dirt and grime on his clothing. And, of course, the absence of his left arm.

 

However, despite all of that, Steve’s breath still hitched as he saw Bucky - living, breathing, _alive -_ for the first time in nearly three years.  It was a sight he never thought he’d have the joy of seeing again, and despite the bloodlust, he wanted nothing more than to pull Bucky into his arms and kiss away the lines of worry and pain and neglect that had aged his face. To take him home and barricade the doors, never letting the outside world near his beloved again.

 

However, the hands gripping him reminded him that he had to stay in place, had to wait for the others to get into position. As much as he wanted Bucky safe _right fucking now,_ he knew giving away their position too early would put both his team and Bucky at risk.

 

So he stayed, his fingernails digging into his palm as he gripped his fist painfully tight.

 

Bucky struggled weakly against his captors, and from the fresh cut above Bucky’s eye and the blooming bruise on his jaw, he had been roughed up before he was brought into the room. (Steve did his best to ignore the burn marks that he could see peeking out from under the shirt, knowing that he would lose his shit if he acknowledged them.)

 

The HYDRA agents shoved Bucky into chair, the look of which set Steve’s nerves on edge. They strapped him down methodically, paying no mind to the way Bucky looked around, panic beginning to break through his bravado.

 

One of the men stood before Bucky, snapping something in German before holding up a mouthguard.

 

The former sniper shook his head, shrinking back into the chair as much as the restraints would allow. He shook his head frantically.

 

The man before him spoke in German again, an air of annoyance clear even through the language barrier.

 

“Please, don’t. Not again.” Bucky whimpered, and the tone almost had Steve on his feet. Bucky never begged, never let his enemy see him frightened. For him to be pleading now-

 

“Are you ready to comply?” The man asked in broken English.

 

Bucky clenched his jaw, pausing a moment, before shaking his head.

  
The man sighed, as though dealing with a child throwing a tantrum. “Open your mouth so we may proceed.”

 

Bucky remained frozen, though a tiny whimper escaped from his throat.

 

“It makes no difference to me if you can speak or not. The Fist of HYDRA needs no tongue. We can proceed with or without your cooperation.”

 

The brunet hesitated, before opening his mouth, letting the man put the mouthguard in.

 

The German smiled, patting Bucky on the head like some kind of obedient dog, and Steve could see the hate and self-loathing dancing behind Bucky’s downcast gaze.

 

The group took large steps back from the chair before the man who was seemingly in charge nodded toward one of the others. He flipped a switch and a dome like fixture came up from the back of the chair, lowering onto Bucky’s head.

 

The man flipped another switch and the chair whined loudly before bolts of electricity could be seen dancing across the metal fixture and over Bucky’s head.

 

The brunet screamed around the mouthpiece, body arching away from the chair though the restraints kept him in place.

 

And Steve saw red.

 

In a matter of seconds, all six members of the enemy group were dead, bullet holes in various parts of their skulls.

 

(Steve couldn’t remember if he killed them all, or if Peggy and Falsworth helped.)

 

The Captain came back to himself, having enough common sense to shoot the control panel that housed the switches, causing the machine to power down with a soft hum.

 

“Bucky!” Steve shouted, hurrying to the chair.

 

He pulled the dome off Bucky’s head with great care, then flung it away with such might that it shattered against the wall.

 

“MORITA!” Steve screamed for the team medic, turning his head only long enough that he wasn’t shouting in Bucky’s face, before he turned back to his boyfriend.

 

Bucky’s body was wracked with small tremors, the aftershocks of the electricity and the havoc it had reeked.

 

Steve ripped away the restraints on his arm, causing Bucky to let out a small whimper.

 

“Shh, shh.” The blond gentled, reaching up to cup Bucky’s face with his hand. “You’re going to be okay.” Steve used his free hand to rip away the restraints on Bucky’s legs. “I got you.”

 

Bucky looked up, eyes glazed over and swimming. “Stevie?”

 

The blond managed a small smile, forcing back the tears building in his eyes as he carefully rested his forehead against Bucky’s. “Yeah, baby. I’m here.”

 

“No.” Bucky muttered, shaking his head as violently as he could given his state. “You can’t be here. No no no no!”

 

The brunet pulled away so suddenly that he ended up flopping over the side of the chair before Steve could catch him. He hit the ground with a pained exhale.

 

"Bucky, stop!" Steve practically screamed, trying to calm him. However, the brunet continue to struggle against him. “You’re okay!”

 

"No! Leave him alone! Please! I'll comply! I'll comply! Just let him go!" Bucky sobbed, the emotion and fighting clearly reeking havoc on his abused body.

 

"Steve." Peggy scolded. "You need to sedate him."

 

"But..."

 

"He's going to kill himself if he keeps this up!"

 

Knowing she was right, Steve pulled the syringe from his pocket.

 

"It's alright, Buck. This is just going to make you sleep for a little bit."

 

"No!" Bucky screamed, lashing out. "No! You'll hurt him!"

 

"No one's going to hurt you anymore. I'll kill anyone who tries, I swear to God." He reached out to rest a reassuring hand on Bucky's cheek, but the injured brunet jerked away, letting out an almost inhuman screech of pain as he crashed into a nearby cabinet.

 

"Shit, Bucky!" Steve jerked his hand back faster than the others could blink. "Calm down."

 

Bucky shook his head, curling himself into a tight ball as he muttered “I’ll comply, I’ll comply. Please. I’ll comply” over and over again.

 

"Baby, please." Steve pleaded, the tears that had been biding their time now fell freely down his cheeks.

 

Peggy stepped forward. "Steve, I can-"

 

He shook his head, cutting her off. As much as he trusted Peggy and the other Commandos, he didn't want anyone else touching Bucky at the moment. And he highly doubted Bucky would want that either.

 

"I'm sorry." Steve whispered, before wrapping one arm around Bucky's waist to hold him in place, as he dispensed the sedative into his neck.

 

And Steve, Steve had bounced back from a lot of things in his life. Scarlet Fever, polio, pneumonia, measles, losing Bucky on that godforsaken train.

 

But, the look of absolute betrayal that crossed Bucky's features would haunt Steve for the rest of his life, however long the serum made that to be.

 

Bucky attempted to thrash in Steve's arm, wanting nothing more than to be free. So sick of being restrained and held against his will. But Steve held him tightly against him, keeping him from moving and harming himself further. He whispered a litany of pleas and apologies: “I’m sorry,” and “I’m here,” and “Please don’t leave me.”

 

* * *

 

Steve hated hospitals.

 

He had spent enough time there growing up. With doctors poking and prodding him, giving him pitying looks at every new ailment that made its way into or onto Steve’s body. And now, they made him miss his mother.

 

But, it would have taken God, Jesus, and the entire US Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines to move him from the vigil he had set up at Bucky’s bedside. He practically growled at anyone who suggested he left the room for longer than it took him to use the restroom.

 

(Yes, he knew waiting at Bucky’s bedside for almost two weeks while he was in a drug induced coma wasn’t exactly healthy, but he couldn’t care less.)

 

And how glad he was that he refused to leave, when, in the middle of the night, Bucky let out a soft groan, his eyes fluttering.

 

Steve was on his feet in an instant, hand running through Bucky’s now-long hair.

 

“Hey, Sweetheart. Think you can open your eyes for me?”

 

Bucky groaned again, moving his head to the side before he cracked his eyes open. They were glazed over, the tendrils of Bucky’s torture and medication wrapping around him, keeping him from complete awareness.

 

“Stevie?”

 

“Yeah, Buck. It’s me. You’re okay now. You’re safe.” The blond smiled, a few of the tears that had been brimming in his eyes danced down his cheeks.

 

Bucky’s eyes narrowed in concern, though the screwed up look on his face looked almost comical given his drug-induced state.

 

“Why you c’yin? You h’rt?” Bucky slurred, reaching his hand toward Steve’s check. It began to fall, the weight too heavy for Bucky to hold up on his own, but the Captain grabbed it, placing it against his check as he smiled warmly.

 

“I’m okay.” Steve turned his face into the hand, kissing Bucky’s palm. “I just really happy you’re back.”

 

Bucky smiled dopely, before letting out a small yawn. “‘m t’red.” The brunet mumbled.

 

“That’s alright, baby. Sleep a bit longer. I’ll be here when you wake up for good.”

 

“Pr’mise?”

 

Steve leaned forward, kissing Bucky’s forehead. “Promise.”

 

Bucky smiled. “L’ve you.”

 

Steve let out a choked, sobbing sound at that, his hand tightening around Bucky’s. He kept his lips against Bucky’s forehead as he whispered. “I love you too. I love you so much.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky woke up, hazy and drugged to the gills, a handful of times throughout the night - sometimes panicked, sometimes confused, sometimes with bone weary exhaustion.

 

Each time, Steve would comfort him - running a hand through his hair, cupping his check, holding his hand. One time in particular, when Bucky had woken up screaming for Steve, thinking he was dead, Steve had held Bucky’s hand against his chest, letting the brunet feel the strong and comforting thump-thump of his heart until it calmed him. He held his love as tight as he dared given the sorry state of the older man’s body, resting his check atop Bucky’s head as he whispered promises to him - promises to never leave him again, to love him forever, to keep him safe.

 

Long after Bucky had fallen back asleep, Steve continued to whisper soft reassurances and about how the two could grow old together now.

 

* * *

 

Steve wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep. He had tried, desperately, to stay awake, wanting to be alert and focused if Bucky were to need him.

 

But, alas, even super-soldiers have limits, and Steve had eventually fallen asleep, pitched forward in his chair so his upper half was resting beside Bucky’s pillow.

 

“Steve?” The voice that woke him was confused, even cautious. A finger poked him, before the person beside him made a devastatingly pained noise.

 

“Steve!” Shouted now, as a rough hand shook his shoulder. “No no no no no. You got to get out of here!”

 

Steve was instantly out of his chair, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hey, hey. Easy. You’re alright.”

 

“They weren’t supposed to get you. You were - you have to leave before Zola gets back! Go!” With wide, frantic eyes, Bucky tried to push him off the bed.

 

“You’re not with HYDRA.” Steve’s gently framed Bucky’s face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that were falling down his best friend’s cheeks. “We got you out. You’re at an SSR hospital in London. I can go get the Commandos or Peggy or a doctor if you don’t believe me.”

 

“How do I know you’re real? And not another trick.” The skepticism was still strong in Bucky’s voice, but an undercurrent of hope bled through.

 

Steve gave him a small smile, leaning forward to plant a chaste kiss on his lips.

 

“Steve?” The brunet’s voice cracked on the name, before he lunged forward, burying his face in the crook of the blond’s neck, his hand gripping Steve’s shirt tightly. “They said you died. They showed me the reports and newspapers.”

 

“It’s a real long story. But I’m here now. You’re safe.”

 

“So, you didn’t crash? It wasn’t real?”

 

Steve sighed. “I-”

 

Hearing the reluctance in Steve’s voice, Bucky pulled away. “Stevie?”  

 

Steve gave the most reassuring smile he could muster, though it likely fell short given the tears that were falling down his face. “It- It’s hard to explain. I should let the doctors check you out before we get into it.”

 

“But - but you’re okay, right? You’re not hurt? You-”

 

“Shhh.” Steve leaned forward and gave another small kiss. “I’m alright. We’re both alright. I promise.”

 

* * *

 

The examination went - well, it could have gone better. The doctor tried to get Steve to leave, Bucky freaked out, Steve started yelling at the doctor that he wasn’t leaving Bucky again. The shouting match, which, now looking back, couldn’t have been good for Bucky’s mental state, brought Peggy into the room, who easily quieted the two men. The doctor relented, allowing Steve to take his spot back beside Bucky as Peggy escorted the security whom the doctor had called for, out of the room.

 

The doctor rattled off the many ailments that now plagued Bucky: multiple lacerations and contusions, ligament damage due to joints that had been dislocated and not set properly back in place due to Bucky’s increased healing, malnutrition, a Vitamin D deficiency, and a handful of other minor injuries.

 

However, Bucky would make a complete recovery, in large part thanks to the knock-off serum he had received.

 

Bucky fell asleep after the doctors had examined him, the entire process too exhausting for his battered body to handle.

 

* * *

 

“How did you find me?” Bucky asked, after he woke back up.

 

Steve was laying beside him in the bed, his finger drawing lazy patterns across Bucky’s chest. The brunet had initially freaked out at the level of intimacy Steve was showing in the hospital, but after informing Bucky that the Commandos were taking turns guarding the door and that they would warn the men before anyone entered, giving them time to look more casual.

 

“Do you remember Natasha?”

 

Bucky sat up rapidly at that, hissing in pain at the strain he put on his abused body.

 

Steve instantly sat up beside him, supporting his weight. “Easy, Bucky.”

 

“Is she okay?”

 

“She’s fine. She found Peggy and told us about you.” Steve traced the worry line that had formed on Bucky’s forehead, willing it to go away. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

 

“She-she’s okay though? They didn’t find her?”

 

“She’s fine. She’s with Peggy’s girlfriend, Angie, and Howard -”

 

“You left a child with _Howard_?” Bucky asked, mortified.

 

“Howard’s _butler,_ Jarvis. They should be here in a little bit, actually. When Angie told her we had found you, she tried to sneak out to come see you. Luckily, Jarvis caught her. He and Angie are flying out with her.”

 

“Haven’t they found her a foster family yet?” Bucky asked, confused.

 

“Well.” Steve scratched the back of his head nervously. “Um, she’s actually been staying with me. I...I was in a bad place, after I woke up. Peggy thought Nat and I might be able to pull each other out of our spirals.” Steve smiled. “She’s a good kid, Bucky. Thinks the world of you. Even named the teddy bear I got her after you.”

 

“She shouldn’t,” Bucky muttered, dejectedly.

 

“And why’s that?”

 

The brunet scuffed. “Look at me, Steve. I’m broken. Worthless. I don’t even have two fucking arms anymore. I should-”

 

“Hey.” Steve cut off sternly. “Now, that’s my best guy you’re talking about. And I won’t stand for it.”

 

“You’re Captain America. You could do so much better than a broke, one-armed nobody from Brooklyn.”

 

“And you could have done better than an asthmatic shrimp. Still loved me though, didn’t you?”   Bucky nodded quickly, because there wasn’t a universe that existed in which James Barnes wouldn’t be head over heels for Steve Rogers.

 

“And I still love you, okay? End of the line.”

 

Bucky leaned forward for a gentle kiss, letting his hand grip Steve’s jacket as he pulled him closer.

 

* * *

 

Seeing the Commandos again had been great. The first one through the door was Dum Dum, nearly knocking over Gabe and a poor unsuspecting nurse as he pushed his way into the room.

 

He froze when he saw Bucky, eyes growing misty and Steve could hear how jagged his breathing went.

 

The blond, for the first time since Bucky woke, moved from his bedside post, gently leading Dum Dum into the now unoccupied chair.

 

“Dammit Dugan, don’t you get all sappy on me now.” Bucky pushed, though Steve could hear the barely contained emotion in his voice.

 

Apparently, actually hearing Bucky for the first time in three years is what pushed Dugan over the edge, causing him to let out a loud sob.

 

“Shit, Dum Dum.” Bucky muttered, face falling as he grabbed Dugan’s arm, pulling him forward until the two were wrapped in as tight as a hug as they could be with the brunet still being in a hospital bed.

 

The two embraced for a long moment. Steve eventually heard Dugan whisper something, though he couldn’t make out the words.

 

“Missed you too, Dum Dum.” Bucky responded, tightening his grip on the man.

 

Finally, Dugan calmed down, and Bucky allowed him to pull away after he gave him a loud, obnoxious kiss on the side of the head, earning a chuckle out of him and the other Commandos, who were waiting silently as the scene before them unfolded.

 

The other reunions weren’t quite as emotional, though there were still a number of tears spilt. Bucky cooed over the pictures of Gabe’s son, ribbing him about how he hadn’t named the kid after Bucky, which led to the Commandos explaining that Dum Dum had already told them his son was being named James and the others couldn’t steal it.

 

Falsworth gave Bucky a blanket his mother had knitted and a promise that, once Bucky was released from the hospital, his family would give him a home cooked meal.

 

Morita talked to Bucky about coming out to Fresno to meet his fiancee and enjoy the sunshine, while Gabe and Dernier joked with him in French, knowing the majority of the conversation would go over the other Commandos’ heads.

 

Peggy told Bucky about Angie, prompting Bucky to grip her hand tightly and tell her how happy he was for her and that he couldn’t wait to meet the woman who had stole Agent Carter’s heart.

 

After, it devolved into a bunch of sophomoric jokes and “remember when” stories, during which Steve kept zoning out, his eyes fixed on Bucky, trying to once more memorize his laugh and smile.

 

There was a sharp knock on the door, causing all the Commandos to break up the raucous laughter as they turned to see who had arrived.

 

Angie walked in, bright smile on her face and a pastry box in her hand. “Cap. Lookin’ sharp as always.” She gave the man a tight, one-armed hug.

 

“Hey, Ang.”

 

“And this must be Barnes.” Angie walked over, sticking her hand. “How ya holdin’ up, Brooklyn?”

 

Bucky couldn’t help but shift his gaze to Steve, a smile fixated on his face, before turning back to the woman, shaking her hand. “I’m good. You must be Peggy’s Angie.”

 

“Indeed I am.” She held the box out in front of her. “Steve mentioned that cherry pie was your favorite, so I brought you one. Let’s hope the Brits know a thing or two about baking.”

 

“I love cherry pie.” Dum Dum made a move to step forward, but Angie turned to glare at him.

 

“Not for you, Dugan. Buy your own damn pie.”

 

“Brings me pie, keeps Dum Dum from eating my food.” Bucky looked at his boyfriend. “Stevie, I might have to leave you for this one.”

 

He then winked at Angie, smiling brightly.

 

“Over my dead body, Barnes.” Peggy quipped, walking over to give her girlfriend a hug and quick kiss, before whispering something in her ear.

 

“Oh,” Angie facepalmed, before she hurried out the door, speaking quietly.

 

She walked back in with Natasha standing next to her. The little girl had one hand in Angie’s, the other arm wrapped tightly around her teddy bear, her eyes glued to the floor.

 

Bucky’s breath hitched in his throat, a tension Steve hadn’t even realized he’d been holding seeping out of his shoulders. “Natasha.”

 

The redhead’s eyes snapped up, widening as they landed on Bucky.

 

“Yasha!” she shouted, a smile wider than anything Steve had seen taking over her features as she ran toward the man, her teddy bear left forgotten on the ground.

 

Steve grabbed her as she got to the bed, lifting her up and sitting her beside Bucky.

 

The little girl wrapped her arms around Bucky’s middle, hugging him tightly as she buried her face in his shoulder.

 

Bucky spoke lowly, a litany of Russian leaving his lips as he held her, his eyes welling with tears.

 

She eventually responded back in Russian, her voice muffled by Bucky’s shirt.

 

He smiled, kissing the top of her head. “I missed you too, Little Spider.”

 

* * *

 

Life proceeded quietly from then on. Dum Dum and Morita, along with his family, moved to Brooklyn on Howard’s dime to extend Bucky and Steve’s support system. Bucky moved in with Steve and Natasha, making them a little makeshift family.

 

Angie and Peggy moved in a few blocks over, and visited constantly, both of them like doting aunts toward Natasha.

 

And life continued in this happy manner for a good eleven months.

 

However, as it always is with life, there was eventually a snag in the road.

 

“People are starting to talk.” Howard explained, as he sat at Steve and Bucky’s table, Angie and  Peggy were there as well, while Howard’s fiancee, Maria, had taken Natasha out shopping. “Steve and Bucky living together is starting to raise questions.”

 

“Can’t we just keep explaining it away like we have been? Bucky’s still adjusting after being captured. He and I grew up together so I’m the best one to help him out.” Steve argued.

 

Howard frowned. “It’s been almost a year. And as asinine as it may be, people think that Bucky should be fine by now.”

 

“He was tortured for almost three years!” Steve shouted, causing Bucky to rest a hand on his forearm.

 

“I know. Like I said, asinine. Doesn’t change the fact that people are starting to talk. Everyone knows about the star-crossed love between Captain America and Agent Carter and people are beginning to wonder if that was a lie. If they dig too deep and the truth comes out…”

 

Howard didn’t need to finish. They all knew the risks. They could be beaten, arrested, killed. Steve and Bucky could lose Natasha, lose everything.

 

“Steve and I could get married.” Peggy suggested, breaking the silence. “Throw off the suspicion. Have Angie and Bucky live with us, claim he still gets shellshocked sometimes and Steve can make sure he doesn’t hurt himself or others.”

 

Angie bit her lip, clearly not happy with the situation, before she finally sighed. “It’s not a terrible suggestion.”

 

Bucky looked between all of them. Suddenly his breath hitched and he bolted out of the room, ignoring the multiple shouts of his name.

 

“Fuck.” Steve stood to follow after him.

 

“Bucky?” Steve knocked quietly on the door before he entered their bedroom. Bucky sat on the edge of the mattress, facing the window, running his hand through his hair as he curled in on himself.

 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Steve knelt in front of him. “What’s going on?”

 

“Nothing.” Bucky swiped at his eyes, and Steve’s heart dropped as he noted the moisture gathering there.

 

“Is this about the shellshock? Baby, we can come up with another reason to have us all in the same house. We don’t have to drag all that back to the surface.”

 

Bucky sniffed. “It’s not - it’s fine.” Bucky made to stand up, but Steve’s hands on both of his thighs held him in place.

 

“Bucky.” Steve practically pleaded. “I can’t fix whatever’s wrong if you don’t tell me.”

 

Bucky sighed, looking  at his hand as he plucked at the hem of his shirt. He mumbled something unintelligently.

 

Steve cupped Bucky’s face in one of his hands, bringing it up to meet his gaze. “There you are.” Steve gave a soft smile. “Wanna try that again?”

 

“I can’t-” And Steve internally panicked when Bucky’s breath hitched. “I can’t watch you marry her Steve.” And then he was talking a mile a minute, breathless and scared. “I-I know it’s wouldn’t be real, but I can’t- I can’t stand i-in front of God and c-country and everyone else and hand you that ring to put on her finger.”

 

A few tears broke the surface. “I ain’t strong enough for that.”

 

Steve pulled Bucky forward and into his arms, cradling the man closer to his chest. “Shhh. It’s okay. We won’t do it then. Not going to do anything that’ll upset you. We’ll figure something else out.”

 

“But-” Bucky started.

 

“No.”  Steve shook his head, cutting the brunet off with a kiss to the forehead. “We’ll figure something else out. There are a million ways we can get people to stop talking. We’ll find one that won’t hurt anyone.”

 

The blond cradled the back of Bucky’s head, guiding it to the crook of his neck as he hugged him tighter.

 

Bucky gripped at Steve’s t-shirt, breath hitching every so often, breathing in the smell of Steve’s cologne as the blond scratched his scalp comfortingly.

 

After a long few minutes, the former Prisoner of War spoke, though it came out as barely a whisper. “I wish it could be us. Wish I could put a ring on your finger, make sure everyone knows you’re mine. Tell the world how lucky I am that you love a schmuck like me.”

 

Steve gave a soft smile, though the tears building in his eyes gave him away as he hugged him tighter.

 

* * *

 

“Up and at ‘em, Barnes.” Morita said, flinging the curtains open, letting the sunlight hit Bucky square in the face.

 

Bucky groaned, burying his head in the pillow. “What the hell, Jim?”

 

“Come on. The Mayor’s hosting some kind of shindig in Steve’s honor. We gotta go. Put on your dress uniform.” The Fresno native insisted, pulling Bucky’s uniform from his closet and hanging it from the top of the door.

 

“Don’t wanna.” Bucky grumbled. “‘Sides, no one wants a one-armed, shell-shocked shitshow there.”

 

“Steve wants you there.”

 

Bucky groaned, running his hand through his hair. “Fine, fine. Let me go get Nat ready.”

 

“Peggy and Angie are already on it. You need to shower. And do your best to look good. You know Steve hates these things. At least give him something nice to look at.”

 

“Oy!” Bucky shouted, throwing his pillow at Jim’s head as the other man cackled and left the room.

 

* * *

 

Bucky, Morita, and Falsworth all pulled up beside the small, Catholic Church.

 

“A Church? Didn’t realize the Mayor was all that religious.” Bucky commented, getting out of the backseat and stretching. He tried not to be self-conscious of the rolled up, pinned sleeve where his arm should be.

 

“Yasha!” He heard a shout, a blur of red out of the corner of his eye before Natasha barreled into his leg.

 

“Hey Little Spider.” He said softly, kneeling down so he could see her. She was dressed in a frilly red dress, her hair pinned and curled in tight ringlets. “You look very pretty.”

 

“Thank you. Aunt Peggy says I look ‘phistcated.”

 

“Sophisticated, dear.” Peggy corrected as she walked over to them.

 

Bucky smiled up at her, bracing Natasha against his hip as he stood, his arm supporting her against him. “You clean up nice, Carter.” He offered, given Peggy’s dress uniform and violent red lipstick.

 

Peggy smirked back, fixing the tie on Bucky’s uniform. “You don’t look too shabby yourself, Barnes.”

 

“Brooklyn! English!” Angie called from the entrance, adorned in a pastel pink dress. “Let’s get a move on.”

 

Bucky smiled, adjusting Natasha to get a better grip, before the trio walked toward the church.

 

“So, what exactly did I get drug all the way across Brooklyn for?” Bucky asked.

 

“It’s-” Natasha started, but, getting a pointed look from Peggy, grew quiet.

 

“It’s a very big day for Steve. I expect there is no one else he’d want at his side.” The brunette explained.

 

The door shut quietly behind them, and Bucky grew stock still. Rather than the large crowd he had been expecting, he was instead greeted with the Commandos and their families, as well as his sister Becca. Instead of patriotic banners, there were pale flowers and ribbons.

 

At the end of the aisle was Steve, looking around anxiously. However, as soon as he spotted Bucky, the tension eased out of his shoulders, a bright smile making its way to his face.

  
Behind Steve was Dum Dum and, was he holding a Bible?

 

He turned his gaze back to Steve, who still only had eyes for him. He felt, more than saw, Natasha being lifted from his arm, before Peggy nudged him forward.

 

Bucky made his way up the aisle, feeling the stares of his friends on him as he made his way forward. Finally he reached Steve.

 

“Bucky.” Steve sounded breathless.

 

“Heya, Punk.” Bucky looked around the room. “What’s going on?”

 

“Well.” Steve scratched the back of his head nervously. “You know how you said you wished it could be you? That I married?”

 

With that, Bucky’s eyes grew wide because _holy shit._ He wanted to look around at their friends and family, but he couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze off of Steve. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words got caught in his throat.

 

“I know it won’t - I know we can’t tell anyone outside of this room and it won’t be official and _I’m sorry,_ because Jesus, Buck, I want the world to know how lucky I am to have you.” Steve ran his hand through Bucky’s hair, resting it on the back of his neck. “But, our friends will know. _We’ll know._ And I wish I could give you more. I wish-”

 

Bucky lunged forward, pulling Steve into a frantic kiss. The blond rested one hand on Bucky’s hip, the other tangled in his hair.

 

“Hey. I didn’t say you could do that yet! Y’all haven’t even said ‘I do’.” Dum Dum grumbled behind him, though he was smiling fondly at the pair.

 

Bucky ignored him, not breaking the kiss until he was good and ready. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead on Steve’s.

 

“I wish-” Steve tried to restart his sentence from earlier, but Bucky cut him off with a quick peck on the lips.

 

“Shuddup, Punk.” Bucky smiled at him fondly, not at all embarrassed by the tears building in his eyes. “This is - this is more than enough. More than I ever - I thought I lost you.”

 

“I know.” Steve whispered, leaning forward to claim a kiss. Without looking away from Bucky, he asked “Jones, you got the rings?”

 

“Right here, Cap,” the soldier responded, stepping forward and handing him the rings.

 

Bucky paused, an eyebrow raised in confusion. “Wait. We can’t just start wearing rings. People will-”

 

“Oh, bloody Hell, James. Stop arguing.” Peggy called from the pews. “As if we were idiotic enough not to think of that.” She continued in a mumble, though Steve and Bucky could still hear her.

 

“Peggy’s going to start wearing a ring too.” Steve explained. “People will assume she and I got hitched. We won’t. I can’t- I won’t hurt you like that, Bucky.”

 

“ _Pour l'amour de baise, Sarge . Juste épouser déjà lui_.” Deiner shouted from the back, causing Gabe to laugh out loud and add in. “Yeah, we ain’t got all day!”

 

Bucky smiled widely at Steve, taking his hand in his. “Bout time you made an honest man outta me, Stevie.”

 

Rather than a snarky retort, Steve just smiled warmly at Bucky, expression open and heartfelt. “Yeah.”

 

“Alright, finally.” Dum Dum muttered from behind them, before clearing his throat.

 

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness these two jackasses-”

 

“Language!” Peggy and Steve shouted, as Bucky and Angie sniggered, the latter covering Natasha’s ears with her hands.

 

“Sorry, Princess.” Dum Dum tipped his bowler hat toward the child.

 

“Everyone knows that these two love each other. And regardless of what everyone outside of this room thinks, we support you both.” Dum Dum projected, a rare solemn moment for the man. “And, if any of us are lucky enough to find someone who loves us half as much as you love each other, then we’ll be able to count ourselves as blessed.”

 

Dum Dum officiated, though Bucky could barely recount a word of what he said, too enamored with the man who stood before him, holding his hand and smiling at him like he was worth more than the entire world.

 

“Now, Cap, I think you’ve prepared some vows.”

 

Steve nodded cleared his throat, looking at Bucky with tear-filled eyes, a soft smile on his face.

 

“You are the star of each night,  
You are the brightness of every morning,  
You are the story of each guest,  
You are the report of every land.  
No evil shall befall you, on hill nor bank,  
In field or valley, on mountain or in glen.  
Neither above, nor below, neither in sea,  
Nor on shore, in skies above,  
Nor in the depths.  
You are the kernel of my heart,  
You are the face of my sun,  
You are the harp of my music,  
You are the crown of my company”

 

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes. And I always will.”

 

“Stevie, I ain’t-” Bucky started, staring dejectedly at the stump where his left arm used to be, where his ring finger should be.

 

Steve smiled at him, squeezing Bucky’s remaining hand before he reached into the collar of his shirt, pulling out his dog tags. He took them off, ignoring the brunet’s questioning look. Undoing the chain, he slid the wedding band on, a gentle, metallic clack sounded as it hit the dog tags.

 

Steve then stepped forward, reaching the chain around Bucky’s neck, securing it into place. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

 

“Sarge.” Dum Dum nodded toward him as Steve handed him the other ring.

 

“Well, I don’t have anything prepared since Mr. Dramatic here sprang this on me.” Laughter from the crowd, and more important, from Steve. “I...I’ve loved you since the minute I saw you fighting Clyde O’Malley for pulling Susie Martin’s hair. I loved you when you were a 4’9” pain in my ass, and when you came and saved me in Azzano. I’ll always love you, Stevie. Come hell or highwater. The world’s been trying to keep us apart since before I can remember, but I swear to you, I will always find my way back to you. I will always love you, and I’m with ya to the end of the line, punk.”

 

“Jerk.” Steve whispered quietly, wiping at the tears that now decorated his cheeks.

 

Bucky chuckled at him, bringing the blond’s left hand up to place a gentle kiss on his knuckles before he slid the ring on. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

 

“By the power invested in me by my fellow Commandos and Miss Union Jack.” Dum Dum ignored Peggy’s eyeroll. “I now pronounce you Husband and Husband. Cap, you can kiss Sarge.”

 

Steve smiled widely, stepping forward and taking Bucky’s face gently between his hands. His lips were warm and soft against Bucky’s, treating him as cautious as one would a fine jewel.

 

Bucky smiled against his husband’s lips, giddy and overwhelmed as he wrapped his arm around Steve’s waist.

 

* * *

 

The crew headed back to Howard’s mansion, having an impromptu reception by the pool, complete with champagne and cake Angie had taken from the diner.

 

Steve and Bucky danced to jazz tunes, ignoring the catcalls from their friends every time one of them would lean in for a kiss. (And it was so odd to have that sense of freedom - to know that their friends supported their relationship and that Howard’s home was far enough away from the city, and well-guarded enough, to keep prying eyes away.)

 

The two danced with Natasha as well, creating a little circle amongst them. The redhead hadn’t stopped smiling since the church, happy with all the attention the Commandos paid her (the kid had them all wrapped around her little finger, and she knew it.)

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw Peggy and Angie sitting at a nearby table, heads close as they whispered. Peggy produced a ring from her skirt pocket and held it out to Angie. The blonde haired woman nodded, tears building in her eyes as she took the ring, closing it tightly in her fist, before following Peggy back into the house.

 

* * *

 

Steve and Bucky eventually moved to the suburbs. Angie and Peggy moved in next door, their houses sharing a yard. People assumed that Steve and Peggy occupied one house, raising their daughter Natasha, while Steve’s best friend lived next door with his wife, Angie.

 

They remained close to Howard, with the famous genius visiting them often, eventually marrying Maria and having a little boy of his own,Tony.

 

Steve and Bucky, as well as Peggy and Angie, adored the bright-eyed troublemaker from the moment they met him, showering him in attention to make up for the lack of affection from Howard (which had caused some friction between Howard and Bucky until the former got his head out of his ass and stopped treating his son like a damn distraction.)

 

Natasha continued to work through the trauma that HYDRA had caused her, her nightmares becoming less and less frequent as she became more and more trusting.

 

It soon became apparent that Steve and Bucky were not aging at the same rate as their friends and family. That their serum was having them age perhaps a year or two to everyone else’s five or ten.

 

One day, when Natasha, at least physically, was a teenager, she brought home a bruised and traumatized boy named Clint. Abused by his father, abandoned by his brother, the poor kid looked as though the world was out to get him.

 

So, naturally, the super-soldiers fixed up the other bedroom for him, bringing him into their home and showering him with all the kindness and affection he had been lacking for years.

 

Periodically it seemed the world still needed a little help getting saved. Though more people with gifts like Steve and Bucky's (and some with gifts not like theirs at all)  were showing up to both hurt and help the world. Given that the effects of the serum were still pumping strong decades later (and Tony had crafted a state-of-the-art metal prosthetic for Bucky in place of his left arm), sometimes Steve and Buck would lend a hand.

 

Eventually Steve, with the help of Peggy and the newly created SHIELD, formed the Avengers (or the “Superpowered Commandos” as Bucky called them), organizing and bringing together a team of gifted people to protect the world. (Angie liked to joke that Steve only created the team so he and Bucky could retire.)

 

Then, in 2004, Massachusetts became the first state to legalize gay marriage. So, Steve and Bucky packed up and moved to Boston, much to the delight of an aging Dum Dum, who had moved back to his hometown and could no longer make the trip to visit the Rogers-Barnes.

 

Before they could marry again, they attended Peggy and Angie’s official nuptials (the lovely ladies had beaten them by a week, with Tony walking both of them down the aisle.)

 

Steve and Bucky gathered their surviving family and friends, and, with Natasha acting as Bucky’s Best Woman and Clint acting as Steve’s Best Man, Dum Dum once more officiated the wedding between Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes, only this time they were able to let the whole world know.

 

And, with the sun shining down on he and Bucky as they shared their first dance, Steve knew he’d never have to worry about the cold again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading, guys! Feel free to let me know what you think or if you'd be interested in reading more in this universe. Totes down for writing married!Stucky with kid!Nat, so like, let me know!
> 
> Again, thanks to bouncybucky for the amazing art and floatingkhoshekfloats for the beta reading.


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